Red. Scarlet Red.
Like the colour of their blood.
A horror, lies in Flanders Fields,
between the rows of us.

We ask not for mercy,
just to remember what befell,
and through the sea of ruby red,
a story we must tell.

We are a mark,
a reminder,
a memory,
telling tales of courage
and men who paid their debt.
And beneath the days of golden rays,
we vow: “lest we forget.”